Knitting
by 9r7g5h
Summary: In which Taz comes across Up doing the unthinkable.


**AN:** A quick one shot that I thought was kind of funny. I hope that you guys enjoy it as well!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Starship. Starkid does.

* * *

If Taz was to be completely honest, she hadn't minded as much as she had made Up think she had when she found out that he had taken up knitting.

When she had first walked into his room, expecting popcorn, her favorite candy, and the movie _Karate Kid_ all set up and waiting, she had found everything that she had expected. The popcorn had been buttered and salted to perfection, a package of Red Vines had been laid out on a plate before her spot on the couch, and the movie had been paused at the exact moment it was due to start, the beginning credits having already been skipped. Had it not been for one thing, for one little detail that ruined the perfection of the picture before her, she would have just sat down, curled up so that her head was resting against Up's shoulder, and have spent the rest of the night watching her favorite movie with her favorite person.

However, Taz saw none of the things that she had wanted to see. Instead, her eyes had gone directly to the ball of pink fluffy yarn sitting in Up's lap and the two needles that he had held in his hands, undeniable proof that he had committed the crime she knew he was guilty of.

He was being _soft _and _domestic _again, and Taz couldn't stand it.

It was until half an hour of screaming and an impromptu wrestling match that, surprisingly, given his state, Up actually won later that Taz finally quieted down enough to listen to his explanation of why in the name of Dead God he was doing something as disgusting as knitting.

"It helps with coordination Tazzy," Up had said with a slight shrug, raising his hands to wiggle his fingers in front of her face. Although she knew that he was still getting use to the mechanics of his new body, despite it having been two years since he had been cut in half, Taz had still been surprised to see how much of a delay there had been between his left hand and his right, the robotic digits taking an entire extra second to do what left had done so easily. A second that, as Taz knew well enough, could mean the difference between life and death in the heat of battle. "That," Up had continued, gesturing behind him towards the fluffy pile that made her nauseous to just look at it, "forces my fingers to work together better, or else everything gets jumbled together and I have to start all over again. Besides Taz, it's the doc's orders."

Nodding to show that she had accepted his excuse and so would forgive him for this transgression of their toughness, it had been with a sigh that Taz had approached the pink blob, her face twisting as she forced her hands to touch it. Holding it as if it was some dead animal, it had been with raised eyes that she made her last issue know.

"Does it _have_ to be pink?"

Grinning sheepishly at his lieutenant, Up had just pulled out a basket from under his bed and shown her the many balls of multicolored yarn it contained, causing her to throw his current project at his head as she realized that he had chosen the color himself.

From that moment on, she never again complained when she saw him knitting. Instead, she actually spent some of her time watching him do it.

Of course, he never knitted in public, careful to keep his medically prescribed hobby to the confines of his room, lest he once again jeopardize the 'tough son-of-a-bitch' reputation he had just reaffirmed to the team on Bug World. So, it was only when he was at his most vulnerable, when they were lounging in his room, their duties and daily workouts done, just talking about this and that, that she was able to watch him work. Stretched out along the foot of his bed while he sat on the couch, it would be with a mask of faked boredom that she would keep her eyes fixed upon his hands, unafraid of him discovering her watching him since his own eyes rarely ever left the tips of the needles.

Taz had to admit, Up was good.

Although he still had moments where his fingers didn't quite work together properly, thus forcing him to redo a stich or two before he could continue on, for the most part his knitting was quick and flawless, the soft clinks of the needles touching an endless rhythm that he used to create yard after yard of finished cloth. Every few days it seemed as if he was changing color, working his way through the slowly diminishing pile of yarn balls that he had brought with him for the trip to and back from Bug World. The years in the hospital and months spent on the ship had provided him with more than enough time to practice, and even as she watched, his collection of handmade scarfs, blankets, hats, and mittens that was piled in the trunk at the end of his bed continued to grow to monstrous proportions. Much to her proclaimed 'disgust,' he had even started to add designs to his works, shaky letters and almost unrecognizable flowers that became better and better with each piece that passed.

And even though she disliked it, the picture of Up knitting became just as common in her mind as the idea of his daily beating of Krayonder in the wrestling ring and his 'nonfatal' combat practice with Megagirl, both signs of just how tough Up truly was. And it didn't help at all that, when she was facing him herself in the ring, the only thing she could think of was the fact that, in twenty minutes, he would be counting his stiches to make sure he had the correct number of purls. It horrified her, but even then she accepted it, for there was something soothing about watching his fingers work to create something new and, dare she say it, pretty, from a pile of treated wool.

Taz later decided that her allowance of his twisted hobby and constant exposure to it had infected her, for one night, just as she was about to fall asleep to the sound of his voice overlying the constant metallic clicking, she asked him to teach her.

"Really," Up had replied in surprise, his hands freezing as he raised his eyes to look at her, shock mixing after a moment with concern as he continued his stare. Placing his knitting off to the side, it had been with slow movements that he had begun to approach her, the back of his head heading closer towards her forehead with each word that he spoke. "It's okay Taz, whatever sickness you have, I'm sure we'll be able to treat. Let's just see if you have a fever and then we can head on down to the sick bay. I'm sure that Specs or Megagirl will be able to fix you up just fine."

'I'm not letting dat tin can get anywhere near me," Taz had grumbled sleepily as she batted his hand away, raising her head slightly as she did so to glare at him. "And I'm not sick."

"But Taz," Up had just stated flabbergasted, rocking back on his heels so that he was out of arms reach, "you just asked me if I could teach you how to knit."

"Si. And jour point is?"

"My point," Up said slowly, his mind stalling as the impossible happened right before him, "is that you are Taz. The one woman on this space ship that hates anything that has to do with things cute, feminine, or non-life threatening. And you just asked me to teach you to knit."

"Si, and jou can start tomorrow. Good night Up." With that, Taz allowed herself to sink into a peaceful afternoon nap, completely missing Up's softly muttered rant about how the world must be ending as his needles once again picked up the pace he had left off of before his world had been turned upside down.

The crew of starship A-15II had seen some pretty weird things in their past four months together as a team.

They had seen a giant scorpion that wanted to eat them, a bug that could speak English and who wanted to join the Starship Rangers, a planet where mammals were food and bugs were running the joint, and a robot that had fallen in love with a human. Every time, they had confronted these strange and disturbing turns of events with their heads held high and their zappers pressed close to their chests as they chose whether they were going to fight or run. Physically, at least as their records showed, they tended to choose the latter, but mentally they tackled each of these issues in the best way that they could. For the most part, the crew accepted them and moved on with their lives, their worries from before becoming nothing more than memories.

But this, this was just too strange.

For sitting in the mess hall, staring intently at the pair of needles that they held in their hands, were Commander Up and his lieutenant, Taz. Had these needles been pointed at each other in threatening manners, the team would have just continued on with their lives, leaving the pair to their 'lover's spat' before any of them could become concerned with it. This time, however, said needles were not being used as weapons. They were being used for their original purpose, and it was this fact that had stopped the entire rest of the crew dead on their feet in the middle of their mess hall.

Never, in a thousand lifetimes, did they ever expect to see Taz do something so domestic and feminine as knit.

Angling her ragged but almost decent half-completed piece of cloth closer towards the lighting that was better in the mess hall then it was in the bunks, the entire reason Up had decided to screw his reputation and just leave his room for once, it was with raised eyebrows that the small Hispanic woman turned to face the rest of her team members. Accurately judging the looks on their faces, it was with a single shrug that she gave the only explanation for her behavior that she had before returning to her work, determined to continue making progress on the scarf that she had started a month earlier.

"What can I say? Knitting is tough."


End file.
